


yes or yes

by 5k (glueface)



Category: League of Legends RPF
Genre: M/M, No Dialogue, Sexting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2018-11-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 13:30:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16787884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glueface/pseuds/5k
Summary: Mingi's not built for this—for fending off other people's advances or throwing himself carelessly into hedonistic pleasure—but Yoonsub makes it hard to remain detached.





	yes or yes

**Author's Note:**

> uhh i rolled madlife/locodoco + bowling alley + sexting (thanks i hate it)

Eight fifty-five, Friday night. There's a piece of popcorn stuck to the bottom of Mingi's right shoe, and he can feel it every time he shuffles between the cubbies and the counter. Three hours into his shift, Bottom Dollar Lanes is bustling, so he hasn't gotten a chance to sit down and scrape the debris off his sneaker since he first felt it approximately twenty minutes ago. His next break isn't for another thirty-five minutes. He grits his teeth and turns back to the family of four patiently waiting for their rental footwear, pasting on his blandest smile, and slides their shoes across the laminated surface. The disco lights play brightly across their faces, pink and yellow and blue—Friday Night Fever always draws the crowds, and Mingi always has to resist explaining to the blissfully ignorant patrons that the reference is actually Saturday Night Fever, but their overly cautious owner didn't want to run into any copyright issues.

"The bumpers should already be set up, but let me know if you run into any issues," he says, and tries not to wince as the two children shriek in delight. "Enjoy your time at Botlane."

Eight fifty-seven. Mingi scans the twenty or so occupied lanes and, satisfied that no one is in imminent danger, starts to reach back for his stool when he feels his phone vibrate in his back pocket. 

Mingi sighs; there are two possibilities. He'd prefer if it was Sangmyeon with another MapleStory update; Mingi spams Sangmyeon during Sangmyeon's shifts at the library, and Sangmyeon returns the favor while Mingi's wasting away at the bowling alley—you know,  _ normal best friend things _ . Not like, well... the kind of stuff Yoonsub sends. 

God. It's definitely Yoonsub. Sangmyeon had already texted during Mingi's break, sending over his latest quest completion time and screenshots of funny chat logs. Mingi prefers to talk over the phone or Skype, running through weapon upgrades and strategy like he's reviewing for a test instead of playing some dumb video game.

Yoonsub plays too, and he had added both Mingi and Sangmyeon a few months ago, but they never talk about games. It's weird—they've got all this stuff in common, classes and interests, but Yoonsub only seems interested in getting his dick wet. With Mingi, specifically.

Eight fifty-nine. Someone is warbling Happy Birthday over in Lane 5, loudly and off-key, over the white noise of shitty Top 40 music.

_ Schrodinger's sext _ , Mingi thinks grimly, worrying his thumbnail at the corner of his mouth. If he doesn't check, he won't have to deal with Yoonsub's latest experiment with seduction, or worse, figure out how he feels about it. He's not built for this—for fending off other people's advances or throwing himself carelessly into hedonistic pleasure—but Yoonsub makes it hard to remain detached. He's just always  _ there _ : creeping close to Mingi during lunch and prompting Sangmyeon to level them both with a complex stare, running his foot up Mingi's calf during biochem lab and leaving hateful little dirt streaks on Mingi's pants, calling Mingi at too-late hours of the night and cajoling him in that clumsy, overeager way of his, breathing too loudly and always finishing first even though Mingi barely offers anything beyond soft affirmations here and there.

The dick pics were a recent development, the first one shocking Mingi awake at Botlane one monotonous evening, making him clutch his phone to his chest as sweat begin to gather under his collar. He remembers feeling inordinately annoyed by the whole thing—the fact that there was, somewhere inside a computer on this earth, a record of this message having being sent, even if they both were to delete the picture evidence from their phones; the knowledge that if he were to call Yoonsub at this very moment, he wouldn't get a real apology, just more innuendo; and worst of all, the small, shameful flicker of realization that he didn't mind it all that much. Not the shamelessness required to take and send a dick pick in the first place, not Yoonsub's lack of social decorum—god, what if Mingi had opened the text  _ in front of kids _ ? what if Mingi had opened it  _ on a crowded bus _ ?—and not even Yoonsub himself, with his terrible haircut and skinny arms and the crumbs he strews everywhere at lunch and the way he blinks rapidly whenever he has to answer a question in class. 

None of Yoonsub's outward shortcomings had kept him from pursuing Mingi with the single-minded entitlement of a chaebol in those dramas his mom loves to watch. Even Sangmyeon had to admit he was impressed. Mingi wishes he could say the opposite, but he can't. His call history and laundry pile would give him away immediately.

Nine o'clock. The new Twice song starts blaring, and it's terrible. The air reeks of popcorn and grease and that very specific metallic grime only found in the holes of bowling balls. The lights cast a purplish glow across the screen of Mingi's phone as he activates it, resigned to his fate.

**Author's Note:**

> who needs dialogue when you can mine the rich inner lives of pro gamers. also how do sexting work


End file.
